Still Hope
by your candy perfume girl
Summary: When Alistair tells Gwen that her son, Nathan, is still alive, Gwen begins searching for her lost baby with the help of an unlikely ally. Not for Theresa fans. Gwen/Fox.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _Passions_, any of it's characters, or locations. They are the property of James E. Reilly and NBC.

**Author's Note:** This story takes place after the tsunami and after Theresa moved into the mansion, but before Alistair raped her.

**PROLOGUE**

Alistair Crane sat in his leather chair behind his desk, gaze fixed intently upon one of the many television screens on the adjacent wall. On this screen, Ethan Winthrop was swimming in the Crane pool with his nine month-old daughter, Jane. Ethan was blowing raspberries on his baby's tummy and lifting her high in the air, making her giggle and grin. Most people would have smiled at the scene. Alistair wanted to hurl.

It had been over four years since Alistair, along with the rest of the world, had discovered that Ethan was not really a Crane, but the young man was still living in the Crane mansion, just like he had for most of his life. It hadn't bothered Alistair so much at first – he was Gwen's husband, and Gwen was his son's stepdaughter. Plus, it helped having people in the mansion – it made for easier spying.

But lately, Ethan had started to piss Alistair off. First, he'd dared to question the future of the empire that Alistair had worked so tirelessly to create – and in front of his beloved Fancy, too – and then he kept threatening Alistair to stay away from Theresa. It had been pathetic, really. As if a mere Bennett could stop a Crane. It must have been some sort of defect in the Bennett genes.

But, genetic defects aside, Alistair wanted to punish Ethan, and badly. It was time that the boy got what was coming to him. It was a good thing that Alistair took out little "insurance policies" every now and then. He'd taken out one the previous November, unsure if he'd ever need to use it. He was glad he'd taken it out now.

Alistair swiveled around in his chair and entered the combination into his safe. Once open, he pulled out a thin file before closing the safe door. He laid the file down on his desk and opened it. On top of a stack of papers was an amateur photograph of an infant boy, no more than a day old. Alistair stared at the photograph for a moment before closing the file and picking up the phone on his desk. He dialed a number and waited. Shortly after the first ring, the phone was answered.

"It's me," Alistair stated, voice commanding and intimidating. "Please inform Mrs. Winthrop that her presence is requested in my office as soon as possible."

Alistair hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair, crossing his hands behind his head. Revenge would be sweet.


	2. Chapter One

**A/N** - To make the dates and such run a bit smoother, I've de-aged all of the children to the age that they should be in real time. So Little Ethan is three, not nine; Marty is two, not three-ish; etc.

**CHAPTER ONE **

Gwen Winthrop smiled as she walked outside to find her husband blowing raspberries on his daughter's tummy. Ethan lifted Jane high in the air before quickly lowering her and dunking her little bottom in the pool water. The rushing air and cool water on her tender baby skin made Jane squeal, and Gwen couldn't help but laugh. They looked so perfect together.

With a pang, Gwen imagined Sarah in Ethan's arms, squealing and giggling as he played with her. It was the moments like this that hurt the most, imagining what Sarah would be doing if she were still alive.

But Sarah was dead, and as much as Gwen missed her baby, nothing could ever bring her back. Jane was alive and well, however, and though she was not Gwen's biological daughter, Gwen was quite sure that she couldn't love Jane any more than if she really were biologically her own child.

"Don't you two make a lovely picture?" Gwen asked, approaching her husband and stepdaughter.

Ethan grinned at her. "Hey," he said. "Jane and I were just enjoying a little father-daughter bonding time. Weren't we, Jane?" he asked the baby. Jane just grinned in response.

Looking around, Ethan suddenly noticed that someone was missing. "Where's Little Ethan? I thought you were helping him get dressed?"

"His nanny's looking for his wingies. She said she'd bring him down once she found them," Gwen replied, easing herself into the chilly water. She shivered as the water engulfed her bare flesh, and jumped up and down a few times to get warmer. Once she'd gotten used to the water temperature, she held out her arms and took Jane from Ethan. The little girl beamed when she saw who was holding her.

"Were you having fun with your daddy, Jane? Were you?" Gwen asked in an animated voice. Jane just grinned broadly and kicked her legs a little bit. "Do you want to go in the water? Do you?" Gwen lowered the little girl into the water, and she squealed loudly. Gwen was so caught up in the baby's antics that she didn't notice Lars, one of the Crane guards, until he his shadow fell over her. Lars was staring down at her, a neutral expression on his face.

"Pardon the interruption, Mrs. Winthrop, but Mr. Crane has requested your presence in his office." Addressing Ethan, he added, "Alone."

Startled, Gwen looked back at Ethan, who wore a puzzled look on his face. Gwen turned back to Lars before replying, "Thank you, Lars. Please let Alistair know that I'll be in his office shortly." Lars nodded and went back into the mansion. Gwen turned back to Ethan. "What do you think he wants?"

"I don't know," Ethan said slowly. "And I don't know if I like the idea of you going to see Alistair in his office alone."

Gwen snorted.

"Seriously, Gwen. I don't trust Alistair. God only knows what he wants from you."

"Please, Ethan. I'm a big girl. And I work out. Alistair's what, eighty? And I've never seen him work out, either." Gwen could see that Ethan was still unsure, so she leaned in kissed him on the lips. "Don't worry, Ethan. I'll be fine."

"I hope you're right," Ethan replied.

Gwen kissed Jane on the forehead before handing her back over to Ethan. She kissed Ethan once more before saying, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go and get showered and changed. Best to get this over with sooner than later."

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Gwen was showered, clothed, and telling Alistair's assistant, Bambi, that Mr. Crane had wanted to see her. After Bambi had confirmed this, she waved Gwen over to Alistair's door. 

Alistair's door was thick, wooden, and incredibly imposing. Gwen paused before it, taking a deep breath. She would need all the courage she could muster up if she was going to meet with Alistair alone. Though she'd put on a brave face for Ethan, the truth was that Alistair creeped her out like nothing else. She got the heebie-jeebies from just being in the same _room_ as him.

Taking another deep breath, Gwen opened the door and stepped into the study. Alistair looked up at her from behind his desk and gave her a smile that made Gwen feel like she was naked.

"Gwen," Alistair said, voice so smarmy that Gwen wanted to take another shower. "I've been expecting you. Please, sit down."

He motioned to the chair in front of his desk, but Gwen shook her head. "I think I'll stand, thank you," she responded, voice like ice.

"Suit yourself," Alistair said, unfazed. "So, how is your husband, Ethan? And your daughter – I'm sorry, _stepdaughter_, Jane? I trust they're both well?"

"They're both fine, just as they were when you saw them in the living room earlier today. Now, could you please just cut the small-talk and tell me why you wanted to see me?" Gwen tried to look impatient, but she was afraid that Alistair could see right through her act to the fear that she was trying to suppress. The man could smell fear like a shark could smell blood.

"Very well, very well." Alistair paused for a moment, shufflingaroundsome papers on his desk, before meeting Gwen's gaze. "I want you to divorce Ethan."

Gwen laughed harshly. "And what the hell makes you think that I'd do that?"

Alistair just smiled. It was his sinister, I-know-something-you-don't-know smile, and it made Gwen beyond nervous. "Because I know where your son is," Alistair said. "You know, baby Nathan? The child that you sacrificed for Jane? He's alive. And I can tell you where he is."


	3. Chapter Two

**CHAPTER TWO**

Gwen felt like she'd just been punched in the stomach. All of the air had been sucked out of her lungs in less than a second. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't speak. Nathan was alive. Her baby was alive. He was out there in the world, somewhere, with out his mommy and daddy to take care of him.

Or was he? This _was_ Alistair she was dealing with. He could be playing her like a fool.

"You're lying," she finally managed to spit out. "Nathan... we did a procedure. To save one of the babies. He – he's gone. He can't be alive. You're just trying to trick me into leaving Ethan." The longer Gwen spoke, the more she began to realize how stupid she'd been. There was no way Nathan could be alive. Her heart sank back down to its original location in her chest.

Before Gwen could react, Alistair had taken out a file and opened it. He took out a piece of paper and tossed it across his desk.

As she reached for the paper, Gwen realized that it was actually a photograph. In the picture was a tiny baby boy, obviously premature, who couldn't have been more than a day old. With trembling hands, Gwen picked up the picture.

She found her breath knocked out of her for a second time. Her legs gave way, and she collapsed into the chair that Alistair had offered her earlier. The baby had Ethan's eyes. The Bennett eyes. And the Winthrop nose. The Hotchkiss chin, too.

"Nathan..." Gwen whispered, lovingly tracing the outline of his precious little face. Tears began to well up in her eyes as the reality hit her – she really, truly had a son. And he was alive. "But... how? Theresa was only six months pregnant when the procedure was done."

Alistair stood up and moved around to the front of his desk and leaned against it. "I had the best doctors money could buy attend to him. He was in NICU for several months, but the doctors eventually released him. He's perfectly healthy now."

Gwen's elation quickly turned to anger as she realized exactly what Alistair had done. "And so you did what? Put him in an orphanage? Took him away from his parents who love and miss him? Who the hell do you think you are?"

Alistair snatched the picture from Gwen's hands. "I'm Alistair Crane. I can do whatever the hell I want. Now, I've given you an option here. I don't even allow most people that. Divorce Ethan, and Nathan will be yours."

Gwen considered this for a moment. "And how do I know that you won't double-cross me? How do I know that this isn't just a plot to get Ethan back for Theresa?"

"You don't," Alistair smiled. "But, tell me, Gwen – what other choice do you have?"

Gwen bit her lip and averted her gaze. As much as she hated to admit it, Alistair had a point – what else could she do? He was Alistair Crane. He was a monster. He was unbeatable.

But if she agreed to divorce Ethan, who knew what else Alistair would ask her to do? She could end up his whore, much like Theresa had become over the past few weeks. And Gwen would be damned if she got caught up in Alistair's web without ever setting sight on her baby boy.

Alistair must have grown impatient with Gwen's silence, because soon he was telling her, "Look, you don't have to make your decision this instant. In fact, I think that you should sleep on it, give it some more thought. Though I think you'll find that my way is the _only_ way."

"Fine," Gwen responded after a pause. This way, she could talk to Ethan about her and Alistair's little "chat". "That sounds fine. Good day." With that, Gwen left the study on shaky legs.

Alistair, meanwhile, went back behind his desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out a cigar. He lit it, and took a celebratory puff.

By the end of the day, he'd have Gwen Winthrop right where he wanted her.

* * *

About the same time that Gwen was making her way out of Alistair's study, Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald was heading to that exact same place. When she saw the door open and Gwen come out, she flattened herself up against the wall next to an oversized potted plant. Theresa watched with nervous eyes as Gwen made her way down the intersecting hallway. Her mind was racing at a mile a minute. Had Gwen just made a deal with Alistair? Would she never be able to get Ethan or Jane back? Or, an even worse though – had Alistair been on Gwen's side all along? Had she been duped? 

Fury mounting inside of her, Theresa stormed into Alistair's office. "You bastard! What the hell was Gwen doing in here? Have you been plotting with her behind my back?"

Alistair took another puff of his cigar. He grinned, clearly amused. "Don't you know how to knock? Or do people not do that in Puerto Rico, or wherever it is your family is from?"

"Shut up, Alistair, and answer me. What was Gwen doing in your office?"

Alistair just grinned wider. "Nothing that should concern you, my dear."

"The woman who stole the love of my life _and_ my child is seen exiting your office, _alone_, and you're telling me that it shouldn't _concern_ me?"

"Theresa, if anything, what Gwen and I talked about will _help_ you, not hurt you."

At that news, all of the fury in Theresa disappeared within an instant. "Oh. Well, why didn't you say so before, then?"

"Because I love it when you get all riled-up," Alistair chuckled.

Theresa grinned at him seductively. At first, she'd been repulsed at the idea of being intimate with Alistair, but she'd found out that he wasn't so bad. He was in pretty good shape for a man of his age, and he was actually pretty good in bed. Not that she'd ever admit that to anyone, of course.

"Now," Alistair said, voice low and husky. "I believe that you owe me an apology." Alistair scooted his chair away from his desk and swiveled it to the side so that Theresa could straddle his lap. Once she was situated, Alistair crushed his lips against hers. Theresa had never been very fond of when he did that, but now Theresa didn't it mind so much. It was only temporary, after all.

Because Theresa was quite certain that she'd have Ethan back in her bed before either of them knew it.


	4. Chapter Three

**Author's Note**– Sorry about the long delay, everybody! With school started up again, you can expect longer periods of time in between updates. I am working on it, though! Sorry:(

**Chapter Three**

Gwen was a mess as she made her way back to the pool. Part of her wanted to run right back to Alistair and tell him that she'd do anything he wanted, as long as he told her where Nathan was. Yet, another, more rational part of her was screaming that Alistair could not be trusted. That part of her knew that Alistair would have her divorce Ethan and become his whore, only to never set sight on her precious baby boy.

She needed to calm down – she felt like she was going to be sick. The mother and the businesswoman inside of her were both screaming at each other, and Gwen felt like she would soon scream herself. She had a son. A living, breathing son, and she wasn't sure if she'd ever get to set eyes on him in person. That knowledge hurt her more than the belief that both of her children were dead ever had.

She had been in such a daze that Gwen hadn't even noticed that she was already at the pool, or that Ethan was now pulling himself out of the water, worry etched in every line on his face.

"Gwen?" Ethan asked. If Gwen had missed the worry on his face, she definitely would have been alerted to his emotion by his voice. "Are you okay? You look so pale!" Ethan rubbed his hands up and down her arms a few times, but, as his hands were wet, the act was kind of pointless, though thoughtful.

Suddenly, the expression on Ethan's face changed from worry to fear and anger. "Oh, my God," he breathed. "Did Alistair hurt you? Did that bastard touch you? I swear, I'll kill him-"

"Ethan, no!" Gwen cried, struggling to prevent her husband from dashing off and killing the one man that could give her what she wanted. "Alistair didn't touch me! He didn't hurt me at all."

Ethan visibly relaxed, but the worried look returned. "Then what's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

The irony of his statement was not lost on Gwen, and she would have smiled inwardly had the situation been different. She longed to tell Ethan about their son, but her encounter with Alistair had made her paranoid, and rightfully so. Alistair had cameras everywhere. He could have been watching them right then. The thought made Gwen shiver.

Without thinking, Gwen threw herself at her husband, clasping her hands around his neck and leaning her lips up to his ear.

"Whoa!" Ethan exclaimed. "Gwen, what's gotten in to you?"

"Hush!" Gwen said in the most commanding whisper she could muster up. "Not here." She paused. "We need to take a drive."

* * *

A half-an-hour's time found Ethan and Gwen at the beach. Jane wriggled happily in her daddy's arms, excited by the crashing waves and cawing sea gulls. The couple walked down beach a ways, Gwen anxiously glancing over her shoulder from time to time for one of Alistair's spies. The beach was deserted, though, and unless Alistair had hidden a camera in one of the seagulls, or somewhere in the sand – which suddenly didn't sound all that ridiculous to Gwen – the two were safe. 

Ethan, tired of waiting, finally asked: "Okay, Gwen, will you please tell me what's going on now? What did Alistair say to make you act like this?"

Gwen stopped, and turned to face Ethan. Taking one final look around to make sure that they were completely alone, Gwen sighed, and began to speak. "Okay, Ethan, no matter what, I need you to promise to hear me out, okay? No matter how crazy what I'm about to tell you sounds, promise that you'll listen, okay?"

Ethan nodded. "Of course, but, Gwen, that's not really a great way to reassure me about all of this."

"It's not supposed to be," Gwen replied, "because what I'm about to tell you sounds crazy, and impossible, and you'll probably think that I'm crazy again and haul me off to an institution, but I _swear_ to you that I would _never_ come to you with something like this if I weren't completely convinced that it were true.

"And I am convinced that it's true. Utterly and completely, because he showed me a _picture_, Ethan. I didn't believe him before, but he showed me the picture, and, God, Ethan, I know that it has to be true. It can't _not_ be true."

"Whoa, whoa," Ethan said, holding his hands out to slow his wife's rambling. "How 'bout you just start from the beginning, huh? How about you tell me what Alistair told you?"

Gwen looked at the ground, and then at Jane. She held out her finger to the baby, who gladly clasped it with the whole of her chubby little fist and waved it around. Gwen had been so happy when Jane had been born nearly nine months ago. It had been like Sarah had come back to her. She'd been so beautiful. And then Theresa had ripped her away from her, and she'd just… lost it. Seriously lost it. She'd wanted to be a mother for so long, and to have that chance, that beautiful baby girl, dangled in front of her, only to be coldly and cruelly snatched away from her… it had been like a knife through her heart.

Gwen loved Jane like her own child, true, but she hated the constant fear of Theresa or Alistair snatching the child away from her. There would be no fear like that with Nathan. He would be hers, and Ethan's. But what if Ethan didn't believe her? What if he thought that Alistair was lying? Or what if he believed her, but they never found Nathan? What if they spent their entire lives searching for Nathan, only to never set eyes on their precious baby boy?

The fear was enough to clam Gwen up, to make her keep the knowledge of Nathan's existence buried deep within her. But she couldn't do that. This was her little boy. If she had to die trying to find him, she would.

Taking a deep breath, Gwen dropped the bomb. "Alistair told me that Nathan's alive, Ethan. He said that our baby boy is alive."

Ethan reacted like he'd just been hit by a ten-ton truck. His knees gave way, and he slowly sank down onto the sand. Jane squealed at the unexpected elevator ride she was given, unaware that the nice boy she'd shared her mother's womb with was alive, somewhere. Meanwhile, her stepmother worriedly dropped to her knees.

"Ethan! Sweetie, are you okay?" She took Jane from him, afraid that he might drop the girl.

Ethan nodded, his breathing fast and shallow. Color slowly began to return to his face. "Are you sure? How… I – I don't understand, Gwen."

Gwen nodded, smoothing Ethan's hair. "When Theresa went to go have the procedure done, instead of sacrificing Nathan, Alistair had the doctors save him. He went to a hospital somewhere, where he was in NICU for several months, but Alistair said that he's fine now." Gwen smiled. "I saw a picture of him, just after he was born. He's beautiful, Ethan." Tears began to form in her eyes. "He's got your eyes. And your mother's nose."

"Really?" Ethan asked hopefully. But then he shook his head. "Why would Alistair save our son? It makes no sense! He hates me. He hates my entire family, for God's sake!"

"I don't know," Gwen responded. "Why does Alistair do anything? I assume he wanted Nathan as some sort of an insurance policy. Maybe he just got some sort of sick pleasure out of taking our son away. I have no idea."

"An insurance policy…" Ethan mused. "And what would Alistair need an insurance policy for?" Gwen looked down at her sandaled feet, pretending to be absorbed in her chipped pedicure. Ethan groaned. "Oh, God, Gwen, what does Alistair want? You haven't done anything for him already, have you?" The panic rose in Ethan's voice with each syllable.

Gwen continued to look at her feet before replying guiltily: "No… Alistair… he wants me to divorce you, Ethan."

Ethan made a triumphant noise and threw his arms up into the air.

"Ethan, please, don't be like that," Gwen begged. "I was like that, too, at first, but Alistair showed me a _picture_, Ethan, and this baby, he just has to be ours, Ethan! He has to be!"

Ethan sadly cupped his wife's face with his hands. "I'm so sorry, Gwen. I know how much losing Sarah and Nathan hurt you, how much it hurt you when you found out that Jane wasn't yours. But don't you see? This is just a trick! Alistair's trying to get you to leave me so that I'll be free for Theresa."

Gwen was crying now. "Ethan, please, don't say that!" she begged. "I saw a picture of him, Ethan! He's got your eyes, and your mother's nose, and my chin! He has to be our baby, Ethan, he just has to be!"

Ethan shook his head. "Our baby's gone, Gwen. Both of them. We lost both of them," he said, his voice choked by blossoming tears.

"You don't believe that!" Gwen cried. "Please, Ethan, look me in the eyes and tell me that you believe that!"

Ethan looked away for a moment, and Gwen nearly sighed a breath of relief before Ethan met her gaze once more. "I believe it, Gwen. Nathan alive… that I _can't_ believe."

Gwen began to sob, her fears realized. "Can't," she gasped, desperate not to lose control completely, "or won't?"

Ethan just stood up and stormed over to the shoreline, angrily flinging seashells into the ocean. Gwen clutched Jane tight to her body and sobbed harder, fat tears splashing onto Jane's soft, dark hair. She sobbed for a few more minutes before having an epiphany of sorts. She pulled Jane away from herself and wiped her tears away.

"You listen to me, Jane, okay?" Gwen asked, still struggling to wipe her eyes dry. Jane just grinned that baby grin of hers. "I am going to find your big brother for you. I am going to find him, and bring him home… and we'll be a family together, okay? I promise."

She pulled Jane close again, but her eyes remained dry this time. If Ethan didn't want to believe her, that was fine. She wasn't Theresa fucking Lopez-Fitzgerald, who needed a man in her life to survive. She was Gwen Hotchkiss Winthrop, former businesswoman extraordinaire. She had single handedly taken down hundreds, maybe thousands of men in her day. She was strong. She was determined.

She would find her son, or die trying.


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four**

After spending several minutes angrily throwing one gray, wave-smoothed stone after another into the tumultuous ocean, Ethan had successfully cooled off from his argument with Gwen. Returning to his wife and daughter, he placed a comforting hand on Gwen's shoulder. Gwen, however, jerked her shoulder out of Ethan's grasp and clutched little Jane tighter. "Don't", she commanded, her voice laced with ice.

Chilled by his wife's reaction, Ethan, defeated, headed back to the car, missing the resurgence of anguish in his wife's features. Gwen stared out into the vast Atlantic waters, desperately trying to gather her strength and prevent the welling tears in her eyes from spilling down her fair cheeks. She would not cry again. She wouldn't. She had to be strong, she reminded herself, for Nathan and Jane.

Taking several deep breaths, Gwen stood, balancing Jane on her hip, and retraced her earlier steps to the car. Ethan was sitting in the driver's seat, watching her with an almost guilty expression on his face. Gwen avoided his gaze, watching only the baby as strapped her in her car seat. Then, in an act that she felt was somewhat juvenile, but was really too upset to care, Gwen sat in the seat next to Jane's, and fastened her seatbelt as a sign to her chagrined husband that it was time for him to start driving.

The car ride back to the mansion was spent in complete silence. Stroking her sleeping stepdaughter's soft brown hair, Gwen couldn't help but wonder what Nathan was doing at that moment. Was he being loved and cared for the way that she and Ethan were caring for little Jane? Or was be being neglected and unloved in some God-awful orphanage somewhere? The not knowing was slowly but surely killing Gwen.

Wiping the forming tears from her hazel eyes for not the first time that day, Gwen could feel Ethan's eyes watching her from the rearview mirror. Still furious at her husband for not believing her, she steadfastly refused to meet his gaze, instead concentrating intently on Jane's angelic little face. After a few moments, Gwen heard Ethan audibly sigh, and soon felt his eyes move off of her and back to the road in front of him.

* * *

"Gwen," Ethan said, entering the room he shared with his wife. "Please talk to me, okay? I can't stand it when you're angry at me." 

Gwen turned her head to face her husband, squinting up at him in the bright light from beneath her covers. When they'd finally returned to the mansion earlier that day, Gwen had taken Jane straight up to her nursery and stayed there all afternoon and evening. Once she'd put Jane to bed around seven-thirty, Gwen had sat there for another hour watching the sleeping child before returning to her own room and trying to get some sleep herself. For the past hour and a half, however, her efforts had proved futile.

Ethan sat down next to her on the bed, his added weight so close to her own making her feel slightly off-balance. Reaching over and smoothing her hair, Ethan spoke once more. "Look, Gwen, I know how much you miss Sarah and Nathan. I miss them too, really, I do, but… Gwen, they're gone. And making a bargain with Alistair – with Satan himself – isn't going to bring them back."

Finally willing herself to speak to her husband for the first time in hours, Gwen protested, "But… "

"Gwen!" Ethan exclaimed, agitation creeping ever-so-steadily into his voice, "Okay, let's say you make this deal with the devil, with _Alistair_. You divorce me in order to get Nathan back. What happens then? You think he'll just give you Nathan? Because he won't. He'll just want one more thing from you, and then another, and another, and another, and before you know it, you'll be trapped in his web. You'll be just as lost as Theresa is."

As if to prove his point, the air was pierced by Theresa's shrill cry of ecstasy from the room down the hall. Gwen made a small noise of disgust as Ethan slowly closed his eyes and lowered his head. Then, snapping his head up, he stared directly into his wife's eyes.

Returning his gaze, Gwen was shocked at the truth that she found in her husband's eyes – he really and truly believed that Nathan was gone. Not only that, but nothing that Gwen ever said, ever showed him – with the exception of cold, hard DNA proof – would ever change his mind on the subject. This startled Gwen – somewhere, deep inside of her, she'd still held the hope that she might be able to change Ethan's mind. If her own husband – the father of her child – didn't believe her, then who would?

Making a conscious and calculated decision, Gwen averted Ethan's gaze, staring down at her perfectly manicured fingernails. "You're right," she whispered. "I just… I miss Sarah and Nathan so much, Ethan. I miss them so much, and I just… I just wanted to believe so bad…"

Enveloping the blonde into his arms, Ethan stroked Gwen's hair, whispering softly in her ear. "Shh… shh… it's all right, Gwen… it's all right. I know. I know."

Resting her head on her husband's strong shoulder while fighting back the tears that seemed to have become commonplace in her life, Gwen guiltily thought, _But you don't, Ethan. You don't know at all.

* * *

_

Exactly a week later to the minute, Gwen Winthrop found herself lying in her bed once more, watching an old _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ re-run. At first, she had only watched the show as a guilty pleasure, privately mourning the young heroine's tragic existence and constant supply of angst in her life. Now, years later, Gwen only wished that her life could be _half_ as normal as Buffy's.

A few hours earlier, Gwen had put her beloved little girl, Jane, the biological daughter of her husband and her enemy, to bed after reading her a story and singing her a lullaby. Meanwhile, her husband, Ethan, was currently downstairs, doing something for work. Gwen doubted this story, however – for the past week, a palpable strain had been placed on their relationship, and Gwen knew that it had to do with Nathan. Despite her deep love for her son, and her desperate need to find him and bring him home, Gwen felt guilty for having lied to her husband. And Gwen suspected that Ethan knew, deep down, that she had been lying, too. She also believed that he felt guilty for not being able to believe her about Nathan. Add in the fact that Theresa, now Alistair's mistress, was constantly lurking in the shadows, plotting to steal Ethan and Jane away from her, and Gwen would have gladly switched places with the vampire slayer.

Gwen was suddenly jolted from her thoughts by a high, gasping noise coming from down the hall. Muting her TV, she listened intently, as if to make sure that her ears hadn't deceived her. Then it came again – the same high, gasping noise followed by a low, grunting one. It was Alistair and Theresa, enjoying their nightly romp. Delighted, Gwen un-muted the TV and slowly crept out of bed and into the hallway.

Every night at ten o'clock sharp, Gwen had discovered, Alistair and Theresa had sex in the room down the hall from her own. So, from ten until ten-thirty every night, Alistair was otherwise occupied, leaving Gwen free to search Alistair's office.

Once down by Alistair's office, Gwen was dismayed, but not surprised, to find the door locked. Making her way over to his home secretary's desk, she quietly opened and closed each drawer, hoping that the key to the door might be present. She found the object of her search in the second-to-last drawer, and silently thanked God that Alistair hired his secretaries for their beauty, and not their brains.

Letting herself into Alistair's office, Gwen hastily flipped the light switch and hurried over to his computer. Once it had booted up, Gwen began trying different passwords, hoping for access to the files on his computer. Her first two tries – "Fancy" and "Theresa" – were wrong, and Gwen began to chew her thumbnail, anxiously watching the clock in the bottom right-hand corner of the screen – she only had twenty minutes left, and she was getting nowhere fast.

"Come on, Gwen – think!" she whispered to herself, racking her brain for something, anything that Alistair might have used as his password. She placed her head in her hands, as if the change in position might encourage her brain to think of something. So caught up in her mental search, Gwen didn't even hear the door open.

"What are you doing in here?" a male voice asked. Gwen jumped, and looked up, afraid that she'd find the fearsome Alistair Crane glowering at her, and was relieved to find Fox's friendly yet suspicious face staring at her.

Breathing a deep sigh of relief, Gwen countered, "I could ask you the same thing, Fox."

"I'm here to talk to my grandfather about work," Fox replied with a somewhat defensive air. "He apparently isn't here. Now, would you like to explain to me why _you're_ here, trying to break into my grandfather's computer?"

Sighing, Gwen launched into a condensed but adequate explanation of her situation with Alistair and Nathan. Once finished, she asked, "So, do you think that I'm crazy, too?"

Fox scoffed at this idea. "And why would I think that?"

Incredulous, Gwen responded, "Well, Ethan thinks…"

"Ethan is an idiot," Fox cut in. "I suppose he just forgot about how Alistair had Chad kidnapped at birth and made my father and Eve believe that he was dead?"

"Well, Nathan was just so premature…" Gwen said defensively.

"And Chad was a crack baby. Miracles happen, Gwen, especially when you're Alistair Crane. And I have no trouble believing that he kidnapped your son. So, how can I help?"

Remembering the task at hand, Gwen sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time that night. "You don't know Alistair's password, by any chance, do you?"

"Yeah. It's aabhhb," he said, pronouncing each letter separately. On Gwen's disbelieving look, he added, "Go on, type it in. We don't have all night."

Gwen did so, and was amazed to find that the password worked. "You're a genius!" she cried. "How did you know?"

"I have my ways," he replied slyly, joining her behind the desk.

"Well, however you knew, you're absolutely brilliant." Then, to no one in particular, she mused, "I wonder what it means."

"It's Fancy's birthday," Fox nonchalantly replied. "In letters."

Gwen looked up at the younger man dubiously. "In letters?"

"Yeah," Fox said. "In letters. 'A' is the first letter of the alphabet, 'B' the second, and 'H' the eighth. Put it all together and you get 11/28/82 – Fancy's birthday. Now, what is it that you're looking for?"

Still digesting the ingeniousness of Alistair's password, she said, "I was going to look up all of Alistair's orphanage contacts, and seeing if any of them had a boy matching Nathan's description living there."

Scooting the keyboard towards himself, Fox typed in a couple of commands, and, like magic, a list appeared on the screen. "There," he stated.

Gwen nearly fell over. "You… I don't know what you are. You are amazing. I could kiss you right now." Then, spotting the miniscule scroll bar on the right-hand side of the computer screen, she gasped. "Look at all of these contacts, Fox! There must be at least a thousand here!"

"Three thousand, two hundred, forty-one, to be exact," he said, noting the number at the bottom of the screen. He rummaged through one of Alistair's drawers and came out with a blank CD. Sticking it into the CD-ROM drive, he burned the list onto the CD. "I can send this list to a friend of mine. He's a good guy – you can trust him. He can cross-reference all of the children living at each of the orphanages with Nathan's description and come up with a list of our most-likely candidates."

Gwen jumped up and threw her arms around Fox, embracing her brother-in-law. "Oh, God, thank you so much Fox! How can I ever repay you?"

"You could allow me to breathe, for starters," Fox gasped. Embarrassed, Gwen released the blonde from her grasp. "Now, go," Fox commanded. "It's nearly ten-thirty – Alistair will be coming back soon. I'll take care of everything else."

Gwen nodded, and quickly embraced her savior once more. "Thank you so much," she repeated. "I just can't say that enough. I owe you _so_ much," she said.

"Don't mention it. Now go!"

Gwen quickly exited Alistair's office and soared up the stairs with her newfound wings of hope. Before returning to her room, however, she decided to make a quick stop.

Entering the nursery, Gwen was happy to find Jane sleeping soundly. She smiled as she stroked the baby's soft brown hair. "Guess what, Jane?" she whispered. "I think I've gotten closer to finding Nathan, thanks to your uncle Fox. He's such a wonderful guy, just like your daddy. Neither of them will ever let anything happen to you, or your brother, and neither will I.

"So sleep well, my beautiful little girl," Gwen said, tenderly stroking the side of the little girl's angelic face. "Your big brother's going to be sharing this room with you before you know it."


End file.
